Travels in the Tardis
by Supreme.Empress.DragonGirl
Summary: A bunch of short, drabble-like oneshots. FLUFF! Ten/Rose
1. Happy Birthday Rose

Rose woke up. She pushed herself into a sitting position, ran her fingers through her messy hair, and glanced at her phone. Three messages awaited her, surely all to wish her a happy birthday. She'd listen to them and call back later. After making sure they were all just from ordinary friends and family, she got up and shuffled into the sitting room in her bare feet, looking at the morning with sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, birthday girl," Jackie Tyler told her daughter. "Isn't it nice to have you home on a special occasion." _For once._ Rose was _never_ home.

"Morning, Mum," Rose said.

Jackie smiled. "Here." She held out a neatly wrapped package. Rose took it and sat down in the chair. "Why don't you open that while I make breakfast?"

Rose tore open the wrapping as Jackie hurried off to the kitchen. There was a box inside. She took the lid off and pulled out a £ pound note, followed by a blouse and a pair of jeans, the same outfit she'd wanted and hadn't gotten for Christmas "_Thank_ you, Mum!" she cried as she ran into the kitchen and threw her arms around Jackie. Then, grinning, she dashed into her room to get dressed.

She came back in her new clothes just as Jackie came out with breakfast. They sat down, and Rose opened her gifts as she ate.

When they had finished breakfast and only one present remained, she heard the sound of someone running down the hall. She began unwrapping the present. The footsteps stopped in front of the door, and she paused. Then, they ran off.

She set down the gift slowly and stood. When she opened the door, there was no one in sight, but there was something on the doorstep: a package wrapped sloppily in brown paper.

"If that's a present, they could've wrapped it a bit better," she murmured, and picked it up. She carried it into the living room.

"Who's that from?" asked Jackie.

"I don't know." Rose pulled off the wrapping and a bunch of roses fell onto the table.

"Looks like you've got a secret admirer," Jackie commented.

"Looks like my admirer's not so secret," said Rose, pulling out a note. Before she opened it, she counted the roses. There were ten of them. She smiled slightly and knew, without reading the card, who had sent them. She unfolded the note.

_Because beauty isn't just skin deep, and because I love you not for being beautiful, but for being my Rose. Happy birthday._

She untied the string from the roses, so they were no longer in a bunch. Holding it up, she grinned. Tied on the loop of string was a very ordinary-looking, but not so ordinary at all, key.


	2. Cherry

Rose sat in the shade of a tree, her knees pulled up to her chest, an ice lolly in her mouth. Nearby, in the sunlight, the Doctor lay in the grass. He watched her with half-closed eyes. She was smiling, staring off into the distance, her lips turned cherry-red by the flavored ice.

"Want some?" Rose asked, holding up the frozen treat. The Doctor shook his head and turned his face towards the sun. She got up and walked over to sit at his shoulder. His mouth was slightly open, his teeth almost literally glinting in the sun. She held the ice lolly upside down, her thumb and forefinger pinched tightly on the stick, and let a drop of cherry-flavored water fall on his tongue.

The Doctor opened his eyes and grinned at her. She dangled the ice lolly lower, and pulled it away as he jerked up. The click was audible as his teeth closed over the empty air. Rose giggled and did it again, lowering the cherry ice just within reach of his teeth, and raising it again at the last second.

"Come on, Rose," he said, laughing. "Even I'm not _that_ fast! Humor me, please?"

"Oh, alright," she said, and let him bite the end off the ice lolly. She sat back in the grass and smiled. He turned his head to look at her as he sucked the flavor out of the frozen cherry treat, and a trickle of red ran down the side of his face. Rose laughed and caught the drip on her fingers. She licked the juice off.

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. He just grinned up at the sky. Rose knew that even though he wasn't looking at her, the smile was meant for her.

"Somewhere in the universe," he said suddenly, "people are vanishing mysteriously without a trace. Some sort of evil alien must be taking them, but the people of that planet, that solar system, that galaxy, can't stop it on their own."

"Somewhere in the universe, someone needs your help," Rose said. "Somewhere out there, some time, someone needs _our_ help."

"Somewhere between the beginning and end of the universe," he confirmed.

"Let's go," she said. She was grinning.

She jumped up and offered him her hand. He took it, and she pulled him to his feet. Together, they walked down the street towards the TARDIS, hand in hand.

**A/N: I like this one better than Happy Birthday Rose. More fluffy. Fluff is fun to write. :P **

**I like the next one even better, though. **


	3. Chicken Soup

She was a beam of sunlight, warm and bright, shining through the rain clouds.

She was the one who marched away with determination in the set of her jaw and the gleam of her eyes; who turned the ship inside out for another box of tissues or another bottle of cough syrup; who returned beaming with her prize clutched tightly in her hand. She was the one who ran to the library and pulled down a heavy book from the shelf, who brought it back in and read it aloud, because reading made his head ache even more than it did to begin with. She was the one who dashed to the kitchen to heat up a tin of chicken soup, who returned and fed it to him straight out of the can because he was too weary to even lift his hand, let alone eat soup.

She was a lot like chicken soup. Chicken soup was warm, and she was warm, when she brushed the side of his face with her fingers, slipped her hand into his. Chicken soup was comforting, and she was comforting, smiling and laughing and murmuring nonsense strings of words until he slipped into sleep. Chicken soup was good for people, or so it was said, and she was certainly good for him. Chicken soup was good, and she was good, better than soup, better than anything, so, so much better than he had ever done anything to deserve. But whether he deserved her or not, he had her, and it was her choice. She could have left, could have gone at any time, but she chose to stay here, with him, though he didn't deserve her.

She was fantastic. Every moment, she would come the second he said her name, no matter how tired she was. Even with shadows under her eyes, she was impossibly beautiful. He could have lived without ever seeing the light of any sun in the universe, ever again, as long as he could see her shining face every morning. In nine hundred years, in all the universe, all the times and places, from the beginning to the end and from the center to the edges in all directions, he had never met another girl like her, and he never would.

She was his sunlight shining through the clouds. She was the best remedy he could ask for, better than chicken soup, the most miraculous cure for him. She was his Rose, forever.

**A/N: Aw, Rose is so sweet. :P And a lot like chicken soup. This one's my favorite so far. You have to love the Doctor when he's so helpless. Any ideas for the next one? I'm fresh out! DDD:**


	4. Domestic

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"But it's so important to me_! Please?"_

"I've told you twice, and now I'm telling you again, there's no chance whatsoever."

"But Doctorrrrrr!"

"Rose Tyler, have you gone deaf _and_ lost your memory? You know perfectly well that I--"

"Don't do domestic, yeah, I've heard," grumbled Rose.

"No, I don't," said the Doctor. "And no amount of pleading—or even making that face!—is going to get me to change my mind."

"Fine," said Rose. "I'll do it myself. I'm sure the TARDIS will help me. She likes me. She never even shocks _me."_

The Doctor glared at her. She'd added the last words just as a spark had leaped from the console to his hand. Rose stuck her tongue out and flounced off to the kitchen, smirking.

"Oh, all right," he said behind her, sounding defeated. "Ow! Stop that, I'm going!"

He came into the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair to make it lie flat after the TARDIS's sparks. He failed dismally, but Rose didn't tell him. Secretly, though she would never in a hundred years admit it, she thought he looked cute that way.

"I hope you're happy," he said.

"I am," she said, smiling sweetly up at him. "Now come on, let's get to work."

He began opening everything in the kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Close the refrigerator," said Rose, shutting it for him. "I don't know. TARDIS, why don't you show us a recipe?"

She grinned, knowing at least one ingredient they would need for anything the TARDIS would come up with. The Doctor put on his glasses and looked at the screen, and his face lit up like it was Christmas morning already. Rose laughed.

She got out the materials. He got out the ingredients. She mixed and poured and stirred and blended. He handed her everything just when she needed it. She guarded the bowl and the cookie tray jealously. He tried to steal some of the dough, never mind that there were eggs in it and it wasn't healthy to eat raw eggs. All the while, the TARDIS alternated between the sides, sometimes helping Rose, sometimes the Doctor.

Eventually, Rose managed to get the trays in the oven, and the TARDIS refused to let anyone open the oven before it was time. She'd won the battle. The Doctor looked put out. "I _do_ get a cookie when they're done?"

"Of course you do," said Rose.

When the cookies were done, she did give him two. But she didn't tell him where she'd hidden the rest of them until Christmas Eve.


	5. Rose's Rule

Rose Frowned and looked around the kitchen. Had she left her jacket here? She wasn't sure. She hadn't been able to find everything she'd lost, but she _needed_ the jacket. Why was the TARDIS so big, anyway? It was no wonder she could never find anything.

She didn't think she'd left her jacket in the kitchen. But then, she had been pretty sure she hadn't left her shoes under the central console. She wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten _there,_ as she'd never gone under the central console. She'd gotten comfortable wandering through the halls of the TARDIS, but she didn't quite dare to go that far into the Doctor's territory. Except to get her shoes.

She opened a cabinet. She really had no idea why her jacket would be in a kitchen cabinet, but the other day she'd found her favorite pen in the pajama drawer in the wardrobe. She hadn't been in the wardrobe for ages and she had no idea why her pen would have been in there.

She searched through all the cabinets.

The jacket was nowhere to be found.

"Doctor?" she called. "Doctor, have you seen my jacket?"

There was no answer. She ran to the first library (A-Dm) and checked between all seventeen shelves, _and_ in the back aisle. He wasn't there. She did the same in all the other libraries. Nothing.

"Only a hundred other kinds of rooms to check," she said grumpily, and went to the central control room. He was in there often, flipping switches and running around, beaming like a little boy on Christmas Morning, or talking to the TARDIS, or under the console, tinkering with things (and usually getting sparked by an annoyed TARDIS). But he was doing none of these things. _Unusual,_ she thought, but shrugged it off.

It took a lot of nerve to even walk down the hallway she went down next. But even so, she found herself in front of a door she was pretty sure was the Doctor's room. She opened the door. "Doctor? Have you seen my...?"

She glanced around the room. There was no Doctor, but there _was_ her jacket. Another quick look at the things scattered all over the room made her eyes narrow. "Has he been sneaking into my _room_ at night?" Most of the things she hadn't been able to find were strewn about everywhere. She thought about turning the TARDIS inside out and giving him a piece of her mind, then grinned slyly as she came up with something better.

Ten minutes later, Rose was lying on her bed, a notebook on her pillow and the Doctor's sonic screwdriver in her hand. She flicked the bluish light on, and writing appeared across the page.

The Rules of Traveling on the TARDIS

1. The Doctor is always right. Except maybe, occasionally, Rose might be right. MAYBE.

2. The TARDIS likes Rose. If Rose is happy, the TARDIS works better. Rose being happy is a VERY good idea.

3. The best medicine is rest, tea, and Rose. Especially her smile. Or her laughing.

Rose rolled her eyes at the first rule, snorted at the third, and outright laughed at the third. "That may be the sweetest thing I've ever heard him say!" Grinning, she read on.

4. Mothers are dangerous. VERY dangerous. Especially Jackie Tyler.

5. Rose is very soft-hearted. She's a danger to herself. And to entire planets. Don't let Rose near dangerous aliens before they try to kill her. Or after they try to kill her, for that matter.

6. Rose had better not ever get a scratch on her. Or else. Refer to 4 and 5.

Rose giggled a bit. Her mum had slapped the Doctor. Apparently, that qualified her as "Dangerous."

7. If the TARDIS isn't working, get Rose to try. See 2.

8. If Rose says the Doctor needs to rest, listen to her. Even if it's not true. See 1. And 3.

9. Unlike many humans, Rose usually knows what she's talking about. See 8 and 1.

10. The Doctor is in charge. Always. Period. Nobody is more in charge. Except maybe Rose. Sometimes. MAYBE.

Rose laughed at that one, too. The list was over. But something was missing. She didn't have any invisible ink, but she did have her favorite pen, which she was _sure_ the Doctor had hidden. She picked it up and began to write.

11. Rose belongs in the TARDIS with the Doctor, and that's just where she'll stay forever.

She smirked as she hid the notebook and screwdriver under her socks. As much as she wanted the Doctor to read that last rule, she would wait until he found the notebook himself. Humming cheerily, she skipped down the hall to get her jacket.

**A/N: Wow, that one was really long! I liked it a lot though, the rules were funny. Thanks to lil sakura haruno for the prompt!**

**Speaking of prompts, if anyone has a suggestion for one, I'd love to hear it! One- or two-word prompts are great. Don't make it too far out there, but the more random it is, the more challenging it will be for me, and (as this one indicates) the more fun it'll be to write! (Longer, too. :P) I have two ideas left, but they won't take long to write!**


	6. Rain

**A/N: I came up with this one last night, AFTER I'd already posted Rose's Rule, so this isn't one of my two ideas left. And by the way, a short note concerning the ending of RR: She DOES! **

**So, yeah, anyways, onwards. Here's Rain.**

It was raining. No one should have noticed. No one should have cared. It was past midnight, and for once everything was quiet and still. Everyone was sleeping.

Everyone except Rose Tyler.

She lay awake, in the darkness of the sitting room, staring up at the ceiling. Every once in a while, she heard Jackie move around in her sleep. The rain pounded on the windows. Rose wanted to sleep, but she couldn't, because in her dreams she knew she would see the Doctor, and she didn't want that.

A knock on the door startled her. She rose and crept across the floor, leaving her slippers and walking in her bare feet. She opened the door a crack, and a stripe of eerie blue light fell across the floor. She threw the door open, her face suddenly glowing, and not just with the bluish misty glow that lit the hall.

"Hello, Doctor," she said. "I knew you would come back,"

He grinned at her, his face turned ghostly by the light. "Did you miss me?"

"Every day," she whispered.

He took her hand. "Come on, then. Follow me. I missed you, too, by the way. Fantastic to see you again."

"Fantastic," she echoed, and ran after him.

He led her down to the street. She stepped out into the night, rain pouring down on her. Beaming, she tilted her face towards the dark sky. The raindrops struck her face and ran down her cheeks, like all the tears she hadn't shed. All the sorrow that she hadn't let herself feel, all the joy she hadn't been able to, both mixed together there, under the rain.

After midnight, on the edge of a street in South London, Rose Tyler danced in the rain. She laughed as she twirled, her arms outstretched, to some music only she could hear.

If anyone had been awake to look, they might have seen two figures, chasing each other through the storm as rain fell all around them. If anyone had been awake to listen, they might have heard laughter echoing up the sides of the buildings.

And if Jackie Tyler had looked out her window, she would have seen that, after an entire year of loneliness, her daughter was happy again.

But no one woke up, and so Rose and the Doctor were the only ones who ever saw that night. On some planets, people would have woken, and come out to join them, but no one did. And that was how she wanted it. For once in her life, she was glad to come from a world where no one really understood what it meant to really live.


	7. Holding On

She wears a key around her neck like it's a precious amulet, protecting her from all the dangers in the world.

Maybe it is.

She never takes it off, but she never touches it. She won't change her t-shirt, even though it needs washing badly. She carries a stain treater pen with her and uses it to erase smudges of dirt. It's like she's carrying fire.

Maybe she is.

There's a shelf in her room, a shelf that holds a collection of precious treasures, some rare, some simple, many worthless to everyone else. But to her, they are worth more than her very life. She acts as though it would kill her to lose them.

Maybe it would.

She's torn between forgetting and holding on. Forgetting would be less painful. Holding on would give her something to remember when she felt as though her life didn't mean anything, had never meant anything, would never mean anything. She tries to forget and stop suffering, but she can't let go. It's as if she would be nothing without the memories.

Maybe she would.

She goes from store to store, and everything reminds her. She stops in the hardware store, and her fingers run over the tools. She picks them up, examining them, as if she expects one to be different. None of them ever are, but she acts as if they would reveal some secret if she only knew how to make them.

Maybe they would.

She cries sometimes, not usually, not as much as most people would. She's lost part of her life, she longs to have what is impossible for her to have, but she doesn't cry usually, only sometimes. She has nothing, when for a too-brief time she had everything, everything she could ask her, and still she holds her head high. She walks in a waking dream, her mind in the past, her body in the future, looking at something far away.

And then she feels pain, like fire, burning through her t-shirt, the one she never changes, and the key, her greatest treasure, bends her will. The life comes back to her eyes, and she runs. By instinct or silent instructions, she knows where to go.

The bright white light that glows near her heart tells her that she was right to hold on.

**A/N: That one was...different. I'm not sure where that all came from.**


	8. Sweet Dreams

**A/N: Finally! I'm not sure this is as good as the other ones, but it's fluff and it's cute and it's all I could come up with. **

The Doctor was awakened by a scream and a loud _flump._

"Rose!" he said, and jumped up. "Rose!" he repeated, louder, more like a shout. "Are you alright?"

He burst into her room to see her sitting on the floor, tangled up in the blankets, staring up at him. "Fine," she said, her voice higher than normal. "I'm fine. Just fell out of bed, that's all."

"Right," he said. "Get some more sleep, then."

He returned to his room. Five minutes later, he was nearly asleep when the door opened. "Doctor? Are you awake?"

He turned over. "Yes, Rose, I'm awake." It didn't matter that he'd been about to go back to that wonderful dream he'd been having.

"Can I come in here?" She was standing in the door, biting her lip, afraid to intrude.

"'Course you can," he said cheerfully. "Come on, then, don't just stand there. If you're going to come in, come in!"

She stepped inside, looked around, curious. She'd never been in here before. Her eyes flicked to the cluttered desk, the Converse shoes on the chair, the mess of disassembled gadgetry on the table. "All stuff you've been _fixing,_ yeah?" she asked, a hint of a tease in her voice. She didn't think much of what he fixed was actually any better, especially the things that hadn't been broken to begin with.

"Yep," he said brightly. "Fixing." His smile could have lit the TARDIS up. "Oh, come on, there isn't any laser security going to zap you into nonexistence when you take three steps in the door."

"Nothing going to transmat me to any evil robot colonies, either?" she said, grinning. She came a few more steps and stood there, looking around awkwardly.

"Nope. What's wrong, Rose?" His brown eyes were full of concern. He knew _something_ was wrong, but what was it?

"Just—couldn't sleep," she mumbled, looking away.

Before she even saw him move, he was next to her. "Bad dreams?" he asked softly.

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "I—I thought I'd lost you," she whispered after a pause. "I thought I'd never see you again..."

He put his arm over her shoulders. "It's alright, Rose. C'mere, you." He pulled her over to the bed. "You want to sleep in here tonight?" She nodded. "Alright then. How d'you want to arrange this?"

She shrugged, a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips. "It's chilly in the TARDIS."

"I can ask her to turn the heat up, if you like."

"No, I'm fine. But—oh, never mind. I'll sound stupid."

"Tell me!"

She scuffed her foot on the floor, smiling. "Feel nice, with your arm 'round my shoulders like that."

He grinned. "You want me to keep it like that?"

She grinned back, her eyes gleaming. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Sweet dreams, Rose," he whispered in her ear as he pulled her into an embrace. She nodded, and fell asleep in his arms. Nightmares didn't trouble her again that night.


	9. Chemistry

She had seen, and she understood in a way many people never could. He hadn't run into this before. He understood the formulas, the numbers, the equations. Perhaps he even understood the chemical reaction, the scientific cause. But she had seen in his eyes that he couldn't figure out how it all fit together, couldn't figure out the _reason_ behind it.

She was the opposite. She didn't know about the science of it all, didn't know how the chemicals changed the numbers, didn't understand all that. But the real reason, the connections between it all...she could understand that.

It was a matter of perception, she supposed. When she tried to look at it with a greater point of view, as though she were a wiser being on the outside, looking at herself and at him, it became clear that the whole situation was very ironic. He was the one who knew what he was doing, the clever one, the one who had seen much more than she would ever see, and he was clueless, lost, trying and failing to come up with a formula, blundering around in the dark and somehow managing to fly blind without hitting any obstacles. Meanwhile, she, the one who hadn't lived for a tenth as long as he had, for a twentieth, a thirtieth, the one who always got into sticky situations because she didn't know what was happening, who was not much smarter now than she had been the day she'd met him and who had never been very wise...she knew what she was doing.

It was funny, in a way. When he felt like it, he was like a walking, talking hybrid of dictionary-with-a-million-languages and encyclopedia of the universe. He knew so much more than she did. If she'd given him a word for it, he would have understood what it _meant._ But what it _was—_that needed so much more than a dictionary to understand. She didn't quite understand it herself, and that made her feel better. It was almost frightening to think that in this position, she might be smarter than he was.

But at some level he wasn't aware of, beyond the thinking and trying to find that single, clean equation to explain everything, he understood, and she knew he did. It was in the way he grinned at her, the way he was happy when she was happy, the way when she was sad he tried everything he could to make it better. He didn't really know what he was doing, but he had the right idea. Sometimes.

She understood what was completely beyond him. The light in his eyes when she came into the room, the way he became more energetic than he already was, the way his too-fast-for-his-own-good mouth went into speed mode as he laughed at the silly, stupid joke she'd made. He understood the formulas, the chemistry; she understood only that it was not something that could be captured by science. No matter how hard he looked, if he searched the whole universe, he couldn't find what he was looking for unless he stopped and looked to himself for the answer.

He would never understand that there was no equation for love.


	10. Dancing

**A/N: Italics is the music. Just so you know. :P**

_...I'm falling into the night...for...you!_ Rose laughed as the song ended, then shrieked with delight as the Doctor swung her around, her feet in the air, and set her down. Her hair was falling into her face and she was breathless with laughter. The brightest sun in the universe couldn't have outshone his grin.

The TARDIS trembled under them, laughing with her. The next song began to play. _I'm still waiting...for my fairy tale...I'm still waiting...for my dream come true...I'm still waiting for my happily ever after, don't you know, I know the one I'm waiting for is you!_ She grabbed his hands and they twirled around each other in a full circle around the console as the music shifted to a faster pace.

They were both laughing now, as they spun and twirled, their hands clasped tightly. _Come home, come home soon, oh, you've been gone so long..._ Rose couldn't remember very many times she had been happier. The ten best moments of her life had all been since she'd joined the Doctor, and this night outranked them all. She tried to make sure that everything was perfect, that she didn't misstep, but it was so hard to do.

_Let go, let go now, oh, it's my favorite song... _Rose heard the words, and something inside of her understood them. She forgot herself, focused not on being perfect but on the happiness inside of her. The music and the dance took hold of her, and she knew she wouldn't make a mistake, because nothing could be right or wrong now.

_You know you are my fairy tale, my secret dream come true, love, oh..._ How often had she thought about being something more? She hadn't, not at all. She hadn't even once pictured herself as anything more than a department store worker. But now that she had so much better than that, she knew that in some part of her she'd wished for a life beyond that of the normal girl who grew up, lived, and died like every other London girl.

The music slowed down. She unconsciously did too, her steps matched perfectly with his. She looked up. He pulled her closer, much closer. She stopped laughing. There was a solemn kind of hope in his eyes, a more serious joy than laughter could communicate. She was drowning in that excited, dark gaze. They were so close that their noses were almost touching, and he stopped, uncertainty registering in his face.

She closed the distance, and closed her eyes, and they were kissing as the music died away. Her heart was racing, and his hearts were racing, and she couldn't breathe, and it was fantastic.

She pulled away as another song started, smiling up at him. Once again, she lost herself to the music. She could think of no place she would rather be than right there, dancing with her Doctor.


	11. Cause and Effect

**A/N: This is a companion piece to Chemistry. Enjoy!**

He did not like being confused.

Even so, like it or not, he was confused. _Very_ confused.

There was a difference, as he knew very well, between _reason_ and _cause._ He could understand the cause now, but the reason was beyond him. He _knew_ that cause led to effect, he understood _that._ What he didn't understand was _why_ this particular cause led to this particular effect.

That was the only thing he didn't know, and it drove him mad. He knew that she was the cause. He knew that whenever he looked at her, his hearts raced and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He knew that when she smiled at him, that cheeky smile with the tip of her tongue between her teeth, he felt like he was falling, or floating, or something. He _knew_ that, but he couldn't figure out _why!_

Sometimes, he could feel her watching him. If he was close enough, he could _taste_ the change in her, the adrenaline that pumped through her blood. When he looked at her, though, she looked away, a knowing smile lifting the corner of her lips. It was as if she _knew_ how confused he was, and she somehow knew what he was trying so desperately to figure out. If anything, that made him even _more_ crazy. How could it be that she, an ordinary human girl of nineteen years, could understand something that he, nine-hundred-year-old Time Lord and protector of the universe, couldn't make head nor tail of?

And yet, here they were: the ancient, clever, knowledgeable Time Lord, completely bewildered; and the young, mortal, human girl of average intelligence, who made sense of what had him at a complete loss. How did that happen? He tried to work out how it was that she had a complete understanding of the one thing that confounded him. It made even less sense than how somehow, impossibly, the Daleks always managed to survive. Compared to this, that was perfectly reasonable.

He tried to figure it out. In his mind, it all simmered down, all the parts of the equation merging together, the terms combining, until just one word was left. The only reason he could think of. A silly reason, but a reason, which _was_ what he'd been looking for. Could that be it, then? Was that the answer? Could he really, actually be...?

Impossible.

But then, he loved impossible.

**A/N: Here it is, Chemistry from the other side. Like it? Dislike it? Tell me! Review!**


	12. Forever

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I last updated this! Here you are at last, another short fluff piece. This one was inspired by the song "The Face of Boe" from the soundtrack, which is a beautiful song, and by the "Forever" moment in (I think) Doomsday. **

Under a velvet sky, two figures walk side by side. Their fingers are twined together, and they look like no more than shadows, two silhouettes joined into one.

They sit on the hillside near the vast smooth lake. She rests her head on his shoulder and looks up at the vast cosmos spread above them. A distant galaxy turns its slow spiral, and not far away, other planets rotate on their axis, swirling with seas and clouds and fire.

"It's amazing," she whispers.

He leans his cheek against her head. "I might as well be seeing it for the first time."

"You're not? You've been here before?"

"Yeah, once or twice, by myself. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Across the deep mirror of the lake, a great ringed planet rises, swirled orange and gold, no bigger than a marble from this distance. They watch it in silence.

"Rose?"

She lifts her head. "Yeah?"

"How long are you going to stay with me?"

It's the first time he's asked her. He's been meaning to for ages, and just hadn't found time until now.

A sleepy smile touches the corners of her lips. "Forever," she murmurs, and lets her head fall on his shoulder again.

"Forever?"

"Yeah. If you want me that long."

"That's a long time."

"'Course it is. And that's how long I'll stay with you." She hesitates. "I mean, assuming you want me that long."

"Always," he reassures her.

"'S what I thought," she breathes, and then she's quiet. She's fallen asleep. He stars out across the lake at the reflections of the stars.

She doesn't understand how long forever is. Not the way he does. He certainly doesn't mind the thought of forever with her hand in his, but if she knew what she was promising she might not be so quick to give her word.

She doesn't have forever, and he knows it. Sometimes, when he looks at her, he sees a time when she'll be gone. Sometimes, when he takes her hand, he feels her _not_ being there. When that happens, the pain and the sorrow and the complete _loneliness_ threaten to overwhelm him, and only she stops him from drowning.

A comet streaks across the sky, trailing streamers of stardust in its wake. Humans call them shootings stars, he thinks, and humans, the stupid apes, think wishes on a star come true. Silly superstitions. Still, he knows what his wish would be.

She stirs in her sleep, and her hand slips into his.

Just for this one precious moment, he lets himself believe in forever.


	13. Chocolates

**A/N: I've been wanted to write this one for a while, and haven't got around to it until now. Officially my new favorite of all these. My face hurts from grinning while I was writing this. Enjoy!**

Slowly, delicately, Rose lifted the edge of the thin outer covering and peeled it back with her nails. She closed her eyes and smiled in anticipation as her fingers brushed against the cool, smooth skin.

The Doctor glared at the monitor. What was wrong with her? _Just don't think about it,_ he told himself. _Don't look at her, ignore her, pay her no attention._

"Ooh," she sighed. "That's _amazing..."_

_Don't look don't look don't look she's not there I can't hear her LALALALALA no no no no she doesn't exist she doesn't exist she's not there no no don't look don't look just ignore her fly the TARIDS fly fly fly I'm too busy piloting to pay attention to Rose I can't hear her I can't see her she's not there don't look don't look don't look!_

He looked up at her. "That's very distracting."

"Mmm," she said, as distracted as he was. She still had half of a chocolate in her hand. "These are, I swear, the most delicious chocolates in the universe."

"Ooh, just wait until I take you to Farinista, now _those_ are delicious chocolates." He beamed, then frowned. "But since we're not going to Farinista, could I have one of yours?"

She looked at the box of chocolates lying on the console. "Well...they _were_ a Christmas present," she said hesitantly.

"Oh, alright," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "I understand completely."

"Sorry," she said, and gave him that puppy-dog look with her big hazel eyes. He forgave her at once. _Damn._ She knew perfectly well he couldn't stand up to that face.

"Fine," he said, and turned his attention back to piloting.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her lift the chocolate truffle. Every movement she made was exaggerated. Her lips parted with inhuman slowness and closed delicately around the sweet. Even from across the room, he could see every movement of her mouth, every time she put her tongue in her cheek to get the chocolate from behind her teeth.

His hand clenched into tight fists. Did she know was she was _doing?_

_Yes,_ he answered himself, annoyed. She knew _exactly_ what she was doing. The way she was eating those truffles was _calculated_ to be distracting. But the distraction was only part of it. Was she _trying_ to...?

No. She couldn't be. She had no idea....

What was he thinking? Rose wasn't blind. She would have to be an idiot if she hadn't realized, and while Rose was many things, an idiot was not among them.

But that made it _more_ confusing. He glared at Rose as she ate another chocolate. He had to clench his teeth as she grinned at him, stuck out her tongue, and caught the truffle. This was the most ridiculous game ever. He was going to run the TARDIS into something. "Please?" he begged? Maybe a truffle would help. "Just one?"

"I never see Mum," she said. "I know you can't stand her, so I understand, but please, just—just this one thing? In return for my never complaining?"

He couldn't argue with that, but if she ate one more chocolate like that, he was going to go mad. "Alright," he sighed.

She picked up her truffles and came to stand next to him. He could smell the chocolate. It took all his self control not to steal one of the chocolates. Maybe if she looked away...really, though, that was just another distraction. If he didn't distract himself _somehow..._

He closed his eyes tightly as she picked up another chocolate and opened her mouth. This time, she took it between her teeth. Her moan of pleasure made him open his eyes. Honestly, was it possible to bite through a soft truffle any slow...

Before he even had a chance to finish that thought, he turned around and snogged her, full on.

After a few minutes, she pulled away, gasping for breath. "It must be nice," she said when she'd got her wind back, "to be a Time Lord, and not have to breathe."

He grinned at her, showing her the half of a chocolate truffle on his tongue. "You're right," he said. "Those are delicious."

A minute later, he was alone in the console room, still grinning and rubbing his stinging cheek. Between that kiss and the chocolate—which, in his defense, _had_ been delicious—it was _definitely_ worth the Tyler slap.


	14. Christmas

They arrive at tea time, without and warning at all. Jackie hears their arrival and slowly sets down the cup in her hands. They _would_ come at tea, she thinks reproachfully, when she would have to change her plans for the evening on short notice. With a resigned sigh, she fills two more cups and sets all the tea on a tray. After a moment's thought, she puts some of the store-bought biscuits on the tray as well, and walks into the sitting room.

The doors open as she comes in, and they stumble out. Rose is leaning heavily on his shoulder, and they're both laughing hard.

"Merry Christmas," Jackie mutters as Rose looks up for a second, waves, then dissolves into laughter again.

"Is...is it...Christmas?" the Doctor manages.

"Oh, because you didn't _plan_ it that way. Christmas Eve!"

"If he...if he planned...to come...come on Chr...Christmas, we'd have...gotten here...in April," Rose gasps. "Can't...fly his...own ship...to save...save our...lives..."

"Oi!" he says, still grinning. Jackie shakes her head in bemusement as he leads Rose to the couch and she collapses onto the cushions. "Though, it's probably true," he adds. "

After tea, Jackie asks, "I suppose you'll be staying for supper?"

"Yes," Rose says brightly, finally over her laugh attack.

"Then I'll have to go to the market," Jackie says, miffed. "Unless the two of you would like to go?"

"I will," Rose says cheerily.

"Not me," the Doctor says.

"Mum, try not to kill him," Rose says. "I rather like this regeneration." She pulled on her jacket.

Jackie doesn't think it's possible for a human to move as quickly as the Doctor does to go after Rose.

* * *

Mickey's with them when they get back from the market. He's laden down with shopping.

"We got some presents, too," Rose explains. Jackie already has presents from Rose. She's had them for weeks, "just in case," as Rose said, "we're not here to give them to you later." She's about to say so, and then she sees the look in Rose's eyes, and understands.

She and Mickey drag out the plastic Christmas tree while Rose and the Doctor unload the groceries. By the time it's all set up, there are already presents under it. All four of them help decorate, and the broken baubles are hastily repaired by the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. A sonic screwdriver—honestly. It takes a while—long enough for the frozen goose to have thawed—but they get it decorated, and it doesn't look bad at all.

Rose runs into her room and shuts the door, taking all the presents with her. Twenty minutes later, she comes back out, all of them neatly wrapped and stacked in her arms. She puts them under the tree, grinning while she does so. Then, she comes into the kitchen to help get supper ready.

"Stay," she asks Mickey when he stars to pull his jacket on.

"I can't," he says reluctantly.

"Please? Just for dinner?"

He hesitates, then gives in. "Just for dinner," he agrees.

The Doctor thinks no one notices as he slips over to the tree and pulls some boxes out of his pockets. Jackie doesn't need to wonder how he managed that, not after having seen his ship, that TARDIS. He puts them under the tree, and glances up to make sure no one's watching. He meets Jackie's gaze, and she sees the silent plea in his eyes. She nods.

For an alien, he's very human. But maybe that's just because of Rose.

* * *

After dinner, Mickey's left, and Rose decides they should make what she calls "real" biscuits. She cajoles the Doctor into helping her, and Jackie watches as they bring their whirlwind of life and happiness into the kitchen. By the time they've stopped, seven kinds of biscuits are on various trays, ingredients are spilled all over the counter, and the whole kitchen is covered in flour. Both of them are covered from head to toe with white powder. Rose has a spoon as a weapon, guarding the unbaked dough from the Doctor's sneaky hands.

"I'd just let him have some and get salmonella," Jackie says.

"I don't think he'd get salmonella," Rose replies. "I'm a lot more worried about the future biscuits than about him." She turns and realized he's vanished. "Where's he got to now?"

"Rose," his voice calls. "Hey, Rose!" She turns. "EXTERMINATE!" he shouts, and runs into the kitchen with a whisk and, of all things, a plunger in his hands, wearing a metal colander on his head. Rose screams with laughter and sprints away. He chases her round the flat, shouting nonsense in a robot voice. Rose doesn't even realize until they've both calmed down that he's stolen some of the uncooked biscuits.

Jackie can only shake her head. Mad, both of them. Absolutely mad.

It's the Doctor who notices first. "Rose! Rose, c'mere! Look!"

She runs to his side and looks out the window. Jackie sees her beaming face reflected in the dark glass. "It's snowing!" Rose shrieks, delighted. "It's actually snowing!"

She pulls on her coat and sprints down the stairs into the street, followed by the Doctor. Jackie goes after them.

Rose stares up at the sky, the snow falling, the stars and moon visible between the thin, dark blue clouds. She raises her hands, watching the snowflakes light on her gloved fingers. Laughter shines in her face as she twirls, dancing in the snow. The Doctor stands there, grinning up at the hand grabs his and she pulls him forwards. He twirls her around, and she laughs. She's so _happy._

Jackie won't deny that sometimes she hates him, and not entirely without cause. He's dangerous, and the places he takes Rose, the things they do, are dangerous. She's been hurt. Sometimes, she comes home, and even when she hides it, Jackie can see in her eyes how much it's upset her, whatever she's been through.

Still, Jackie decides that maybe she hasn't been entirely fair. And there are times she hates him, but this isn't one of them.

Christmas dawns, dark and cold, and Jackie looks at her daughter, leaning against the Doctor's side. He's awake, looking out the window, absently twirling a strand of Rose's hair around his fingers. He looks so tired, and the things he's seen show on his face. He can't always save everything. He's known a lot of sorrow, a lot of pain.

Rose stirs slightly, moving closer to him. She smiles in her sleep. He turns his head to look at her, and a quiet sort of happiness touches his face.

Jackie watches the two of them for a moment, then turns away and begins, as quietly as she can, to make tea. "We've got cinnamon pastries, if you'd like," she calls, looking back in.

"Mm," says Rose sleepily, and stretches. "Sounds lovely."

Jackie brings out the tea. "Here you are."

"Ta," Rose said, and sips it gratefully. She shivers in the morning chill, and the Doctor takes his coat from the back of the couch and drapes it over her shoulders.

Mickey knocks on the door, and Rose, still wearing the coat like a cape, opens it. He's gotten presents now, and he tosses them under the tree. "Merry Christmas."

"Same," she says, and returns to her place by the Doctor's side.

The sticky cinnamon pastries are done a minute later. Jackie takes them out on plates, not a tray, and hands one to everyone. There are peppermint sticks on the tree that she didn't put there. She knows who did. Rose is delighted, and puts one in her tea. The Doctor does the same, and when Jackie catches his eye, her face says _thank you._

There are presents for everyone. The Doctor rips the wrapping off his like a little boy, and the look on his face when he finds a satsuma at the bottom of the stack is priceless. There's a flash, and Jackie turns just in time to see Rose put away her phone.

It feels like the kind of Christmas Jackie hasn't had in a very long time, before Rose started traveling. Back then, Mickey would come over Christmas morning, and they would all open each other's presents under the tree and watch the sun rise over London. Now Mickey and Rose are back, and the Doctor's enthusiasm doesn't take anything away.

They do watch the sun rise, with peppermint-touched tea and sticky cinnamon pastries in their hands. Rose is leaning her head on the Doctor's shoulder, his hand in hers, as the golden glow spreads over the skyline. Jackie is looking at the picturesque view out the window, complete with _real _snow for the first time she can remember, but her thoughts are on her daughter.

"Ever seen anything more beautiful than that on your travels?" she wonders aloud.

To herself, she's wondering exactly how and when her little girl fell in love.


	15. Friends

"Rose? Rose, will you come here?"

Rose sighed in exasperation. She'd _just_ picked up her magazine, and now she had to go find out what the Doctor wanted. That was the only problem—the _only_ one, mind—with living on the TARDIS. You never got a moment's peace until you were so exhausted you crashed.

She laid down the magazine and made her way through the winding corridors of the TARDIS. The Doctor was, as usual, in the control room.

Rose stepped in the door and looked at the Doctor. One glance at his face told her something was very wrong.

"Rose, I have to talk to you. There's something I have to tell you."

"Yeah?" She steeled herself.

He walked slowly across the room, with such a serious look on his face that Rose began to dread the news. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. No hint of a joke was there.

This was not good.

"Rose," he said quietly, solemnly, "I'm really, really sorry to tell you this, but I..." He swallowed. "I can't be friends with you anymore. I just can't."

Her mouth fell open. She stared at him. For a minute, her brain refused to process this information. Tears sprang to her eyes as the news finally got through to her. "A-alright," she said, fighting to keep her voice in control. "I—fine. That's fine. I'll just..." She began to turn away.

"Rose, wait." He turned her to face him again. "I want you to understand—there's a reason. A very good reason. Just let me explain before you do anything else."

She bit her lip and didn't look at him. She couldn't bear for him to see the pain and betrayal she was feeling.

"I can't be friends with you," he said, "because...because..."

He made a face. "It's just—well—oh, I can't explain it. But I think I know a better way to help you understand."

"Yeah?" Her voice was choked. "What's that, then?"

"Look at me."

She pouted.

"Rose, please. Just...look at me."

Rose folded her arms across her chest and looked miserably at the floor.

Gently, he lifted her face so her eyes met his. For a moment, he looked at her with sadness in his eyes.

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

A moment passed where this would not register. It absolutely didn't make sense. What was going on?

Then instinct took over where her brain wasn't doing its job, and she kissed him back.

When he finally drew away and stepped back, she just gawked at him, open-mouthed.

"Right," she said at last. "Okay....not friends. Yeah. I...I can live with that." A grin spread across her face. "Oh, yeah, I can _definitely_ live with that."

**A/N: Aw. :D Did I fool anyone for even a second? **

**There's one problem: I NEED. PROMPTS. Seriously, I'm almost out of ideas. My friend and I wrote a story together that would work for this, which I'll ask her if it's alright for me to post it, and I have just one more idea of my own, but after that, I'm out. So please, give me a prompt!  
**


	16. The Best Present

Rose Tyler had a plan.

The plan centered around Christmas cookies, which she was baking now. Seeing as it was Christmas Eve, and the Doctor had already eaten nearly all the cookies she'd made a week before, it was a perfect plan.

She smirked at the thought of it. Well, _he_ was never going to do it, the prat. She didn't know what was wrong with him. What in the Universe was he afraid of?

Though, normally, she wouldn't have done this, either. Not if Donna hadn't managed to get her to promise she would. She was too shy. Even doing this, now, there was a hint of fear.

Still, with fear came excitement, and that adrenaline rush was half of the reason she traveled with the Doctor.

The other half was the reason she was making Christmas cookies right now.

The Doctor came wandering into the kitchen, looking the very picture of innocence. Rose put her flour-covered hands on her hips. "Oh, get out, you!" she said, half- teasing, half- serious. She'd learned that whenever he had just _that_ look on his face, it only meant trouble. "I want to _bake_ these cookies, not have the dough all eaten before they get in the oven!"

"Cookies are too domestic for me, anyways," he pouted as he sulked away, looking rather dejected.

"Yeah, right," she muttered as she began putting dough on the tray. When she had only one spot left, in the corner with the huge piece broken off the rim, she glanced around for the Doctor and, when she didn't see him, slipped one hand slyly into the pocket of her apron.

If she was right — oh, God, _please_ let her be right — this would be the greatest Christmas present ever.

***

The Doctor had a plan.

The plan centered around breakfast, namely, the breakfast he was making now. More specifically, those delicious, sticky, sweet cinnamon buns with the melty icing all over them. He knew for an absolute fact that Rose loved them. The morning _after_ Christmas once, as he'd unfortunately missed the day itself, Jackie had made them. Rose had swiftly devoured two, and then taken great delight in licking the icing off her fingers. This had driven the Doctor mad, though he wasn't sure whether this had been intentional on Rose's part or not.

Anyways, it was Christmas morning, and he was making cinnamon buns. Rose hadn't even wken up yet, which was of course the point. If she'd woken up she wouldn't be in bed, and if she wasn't in bed than he couldn't bring her breakfast in bed very well, now, could he?

He smirked as he took something small and bright out of his pocket and stuck it in the middle of the dough he was rolling into a cinnamon bun.

In his head, he cheerfully cursed Jack Harkness for looping him into this. A contract! His own name, written in his own scribble on a bloody contract. He hated contracts, never signed them, at least not if he could help it, not even ones from UNIT. Well, especially not ones from UNIT. UNIT all carried guns, and he didn't much like people who carried guns. Well. Jenny had carried a gun, he'd liked her, but then, she was a bit like him, as well as being technically related to him, sort of.

How had Jack managed it anyways? Time Lords had superior physiology to stupid apes. Whatever Jack had mixed up must have been one hell of a drink.

Well, if he hadn't signed the contract then he would very well be here making Rose breakfast, would he? So, while he thought of every nasty word he could call or say to Jack, he at least did it optimistically.

If he was right — oh, Rassilon, he hoped he was right — this would be the greatest Christmas present ever.

***

Rose was awakened by the smell of cinnamon. She opened her eyes to see the Doctor standing at the foot of her bed, grinning. His hair was a mess and he had a plate of cinnamon buns in his hands. "Merry Christmas," he said.

She smiled sleepily up at him. "Aw, thank you, that's... sweet."

"Like these buns are," he added, setting the plate on her nightstand. "Eat! You need breakfast."

"Hold on," she said, and reached under the bed. "I've got a present for you." She emerged triumphantly with a jar of cookies in her hand. "Thought you might like these," she said.

He snatched up the cookies eagerly.

"You're welcome," she laughed, and began eating a bun.

At the exact same instant, they both gave a sharp cry of surprise and mild pain. Rose ripped the bun open and frowned to see something shiny inside it. The Doctor broke the cookie in half and his mouth fell open. Slowly, he raised his gaze to look at her, the silver ring held between his fingers.

Then he dropped everything, lunged forward, and kissed her.

After a moment, he pulled away, but didn't release her. "Yes," he breathed in her ear.

"'S what I thought," she murmured.

She didn't say anything else. Neither did he.

It didn't need saying.

***

The unmistakeable sound of a certain fiery redhead demanding to be let in echoed through the TARDIS to the room where Rose and the Doctor sat under a real Christmas tree with a real fire behind them. She looked at him. He looked at her. Both of them grinned and stood up to let their Christmas guests in.

They stumbled in, all laughing, all with _real_ snow in their hair — a bloody miracle, the Doctor had proclaimed it earlier when he'd first seen it, a pure bloody miracle — and all thrilled to be in the TARDIS for Christmas. All of them had come, the biggest family in the universe: Jack, Donna, Martha, Sarah Jane, and even Mickey.

The biggest surprise however, at least for the Doctor, was the girl who bounded in a moment after Mickey, wearing black jeans and a ragged t-shirt, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and her eyes laughing.

"Jenny?" the Doctor asked. "But that's — impossible!"

"Torchwood found a spaceship crashed a mile outside Cardiff," Jack said, "with one class-A humanoid alien concussed and unconscious inside. She gave us an account of her life, death, and un-death, something about a terraforming device..."

"_Terraforming!"_ roared the Doctor. "Oh, I'm such a _bloody_ idiot —"

Jack chose that moment to say, "_Christmas?_"

"What?"

"Who's she?"

"Oh, you haven't met Jenny!"

"You chose _Christmas?"_

"The Doctor's —"

"For what —?"

"— brilliant, you'll —"

"Of all days —"

"Daughter? What —"

"I don't —"

"Long story —"

"Oh my _God_, you are bloody _brilliant!_" screamed Donna, silencing everyone else.

"What did I do?" Rose asked bewildered.

"Christmas!" Donna exclaimed. "You chose bloody Christmas, that's so bloody fantastic I can't even begin to describe it!"

"What?" asked Jenny, confused. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," said Mickey.

"I'll second that," Martha agreed.

Then Jenny's face lit up with mischeif. She whispered first to Martha and then to Mickey. Martha stared at the Doctor. Mickey stared at Rose.

Rose suddenly realized what the fuss was about and hid her hands behind her back. The Doctor shoved his hand in his pocket. And if everyone hadn't already noticed, that would have been a dead giveaway.

And right then, neither of them cared.


End file.
